


How to Worry A 00

by a_xmasmurder



Series: 221B's and Drabbles (Multi-Fandom) [17]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Explosions, Ficlet, Gen, Someone doesn't like paperwork, mission, snapshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:59:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_xmasmurder/pseuds/a_xmasmurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is exhibit A on how to worry an Agent of the Realm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Worry A 00

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I randomly thought up at work.

“Moments like these make me wish I hadn’t been born.”

James Bond barely heard the mutter that emanated from the guts of a moderately sized explosive device. He believes the technical term would be ‘a big fucking bomb’. He risked a glance over his shoulder before returning his attention to the line of bound and gagged terrorists against the concrete wall. “What’s wrong, Trevelyan? Can’t disarm a simple little dirty bomb?” His chiding tone was light because that was the whole problem. It was a dirty bomb, full of radioactive material. One wrong move would crack the shielding that the creator of the device was kind enough to install, and then they would all be wandering around with their skin sloughing off and their hair falling out - if they survived that long. Who knows just how potent this stuff really was?

Alec Trevelyan let out a distressed and disgusted noise and leaned back onto his heels. His hair was a rat’s nest from stress rubbing, a quirk he had. “Not so simple.” He turned his steel grey eyes to their prisoners. “Are you positive these little shits won’t talk?”

In response, James shifted the muzzle of his Walther and pulled the trigger. The second terrorist to the left screamed when his knee popped in a cloud of red mist, the sound startled from him. The rest of the group jerked in their binds and made distressed noises behind the gags, but save for that there was no motions asking for mercy or any indication that any of them were willing to  spill the secrets of their devices or their mission here in the United States. He turned to his friend and partner. “Fanatics. Hardly worth the bullet. They won’t talk.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Alec ran a hand through his hair again.

“Careful, you are going to go bald.”

“Shove off.” Alec sighed. “Used to be, they used the K.I.S.S. method with bombs. Then everything went digital.” He flopped his hand towards the device. “Digital, I can handle. Simple I can handle. This? I don’t even know what sort of modern art this is supposed to represent. It’s beyond me.”

“Use our lifeline?”

Alec slumped a little, almost in relief. They’ve been following this development all around the world, finally picking up the scent of misplaced and stolen plutonium in Milan and jetting straight to California.They were tired. Exhausted. No one is positive just how it got into the state; the United States has an amazing customs setup. Then again, the programmes have been messed around with so much… James made a note to take a ‘vacation’ to make a few calls, figure out just how this slipped through the net. He shoved his free hand into his jacket pocket and tapped the side of his mobile, waking it and his earwig at the same time. There was no audible beep, but that would have been more acceptable that the small explosion that filled his ear with a worrisome crackle.

“Q?” He tried to keep the sudden adrenaline rush from colouring his voice, but Alec knew him too well to miss how his voice went tight. He struggled to his feet even as James waved him off. “Q, are you there?” Ever since the Skyfall incident, hearing an explosion at MI6 put him on edge immediately. And since it sounded like it was happening right where the new Quartermaster was standing, he was doubly worried. He actually didn’t actively hate the man. He’d even go as far as to say that he liked the slightly cracked young man.

Clattering and clamouring continued to fill his ear with noise until he was about to attempt shouting to get the man’s attention. Finally - “Hello? Yes! Agents. Sorry about the -” another small pop “- erm, we’ve got ourselves a spot of chaos over here. Yes. Hold one.” James rolled his eyes, relaxing as he heard Q tossing around insults and threats of bodily harm and financial ruination if people wouldn’t stop touching his things. “I’m back. So, you have the package?”

James ticked his eyes to Alec. _He sounds fine. Stand down_ , he mouthed. “Sometimes, I worry for your sanity, Quartermaster. Yes, we have the package.” Alec grinned. “The package is a fully assembled and active dirty bomb. It can’t be classified as an improvised explosive device because it’s much more than a few wires cobbled together with duct tape and a timer. And it’s being,” He paused as Alec pantomimed a very lewd act with his hands and hips, and bit off a chortle, “difficult. Advise?” He winced as shrieking metal screeched through the connection. “And what on Earth is going on over there? Explosive remodeling?” Alec went still with confirmation of what was happening on Q’s end of the line. His own earwig had gone to a rough death twenty hours ago, so he didn’t have the vantage point that James had.

“Ah, no worries. Research and Development is having an off day. Take a photo of the device and send it to me.”

One of the terrorists started to laugh through the duct tape and dirty sock stuffed into her mouth. James turned at the hip and shot her in the foot, and that shut her up. “Take a picture of the bomb and send it to Q.”

“Why do I always have to do the hard work?” Alec got back down on his knees and pulled his own mobile out of his pocket, using it to take a panoramic image, and sent it off with a tap to the screen. “Think that would be enough? I got the whole thing…” He trailed off as he seemed to find something, and got back to his feet to follow whatever he’d found. Probably a wire of some sort. He’ll say something if it turns into something important.

“I do hope so. We only have about,” James consulted his watch, “about seven minutes until the authorities arrive to see what the commotion is all about.”

“Or ten minutes until the whole of the Bay City area gets dusted with radioactive material. I found more wires, and they seem to be running into the walls. I’m willing to lay odds that this whole place is a bomb.” Alec ran both hands through his hair as he walked out of a dark alcove. With his previous experiences with this sort of thing, James couldn’t blame his friend for the stress. The scarring on the side of Alec’s face told stories he couldn’t give voice to.

James considered tearing the tape off the nearest prisoner and getting something out of the bastard just as his earwig comes alive again. He hadn’t noticed it going quiet, since he was much too used to it. Of course, he wasn’t used to it coming back online in a spectacular cacophony of noise. “Good God, Q! Are you blowing up the whole building?”

“Haha, no. Just my department, apparently. Bit smoky in here.” Q coughed. “I’ve gotten a new idea for the air filtration system down here, so I suppose it isn’t all tears and catastrophe. The timing isn’t the greatest, but as you know, these things don’t always happen during office hours. Our dear friends across the hall get as antsy as you agents do if there isn’t something interesting happening on a regular basis.” He coughed again, then spat and cleared his throat. James was starting to get worried for the young man’s lungs. “Cut the green wire.”

James waited for more instruction. None was forthcoming. Q coughed some more, but said nothing. James waited some more.

“Have you done it?” Q sounded like he’d smoked a packet of cigarettes in the span of a couple minutes.

“Are you alright?” James couldn’t help but ask, and he imagined Q on the other end, waving his hand dismissively and whinging about something or another.

“Fine. I’m fine. Have you cut it?”

James looked over at his captives, then to Alec. “That’s it? Just that?”

“Of course! It’s not that difficult to figure out. Well, unless you don’t have the schematics on the screen in front of you, then it sort of looks a hot mess.”

James shrugged. “A hot mess, indeed.” He nodded to Alec. “Go ahead and cut the green wire.”

Alec’s eyes narrowed. “You’re having me on.”

“No. I guess. Just do it, Q sounds like he’s a fish out of water over there.” James grinned. “Open a window, you daft duck!”

“No windows, genius.” Q chortled. “Basement.”

Alec gave his own little shrug and knelt back down into the guts of the thing, pulling the multitool out of his inner pocket. “I’m certainly happy there’s only one green wire.”

“I’m sure Q would have told us which green one to cut if there were more.”

“Of course I would have! What do you take me for?” Q’s grin came through in his voice, which made James smile. If he’s grinning, it’s not all bad over there. He watched as Alec clipped the frontmost wire.

“Huh.” Alec scrubbed his face with his wrist. “I suppose it worked. We didn’t die.”

“Either that, or this is hell.” James gauged the reactions of the terrorists as they collectively slumped against the wall, realising that their game has ended. He grinned. “Well, thank you -”

This time he had to pull the earwig out of his ear completely to avoid having his eardrum imploded by the sound of something deconstructing in an explosion that must have been something to see. He shot a worried look at Alec, and Alec tapped his mobile to call Q directly as they made their way up the stairs. After a few rings, the crazy bastard answered.

James spoke first, fast on the draw thanks to his concern. “Here we are, halfway around the world, trying to avoid explosions, and you are hard at work trying to bring the whole of MI6 down around your ears!” He didn’t mean to sound so harsh. Okay, yes he did.

“Not my fault. R and D is devising a new system of eliminating paperwork. I must say it’s working.” Q sounded better than earlier, but there’s a distinctive crackle in the background that made James even more worried.

“How?” Alec couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he tried. James just frowned even more.

“Half my file cabinets have been destroyed by the latest experiment.” Q laughed through a coughing fit. “I can’t find my desk, and I’m positive Archives is missing a floor.”

“Missing a -” James sputtered out his befuddlement. “Q, you need to get out of there!” They reached their car, a completely normal beige Ford Taurus, and got in.

“Seven minute mark. And that sounds like it could create _more_ paperwork, not less.” Alec looked at his watch, completely unperturbed by Q's revelation. In the distance, they could hear sirens approaching. James nodded, attention half on the escape and half on his slightly sooty - probably - Quartermaster. Soon, the police would happen upon the terrorists, and the dismantled device. They’d also find the material the group had stolen from the Iranians. James would have been much happier to have the stuff in their possession, but without the proper equipment and shielding he’d be exposing themselves and the innocent people around them to the radiation. Not to mention even getting out of the state would be nigh on impossible.

Q nattered on about smoke and air filtration and how good of a job at _listening to instructions_ the agents were as Alec grinned at James. James finally returned the emotion fully as he quietly pulled the car out of its stall and moved away from the scene. The assignment was over, and they could go home to wait for the next one. Perhaps they would arrive in time to help Q clean up the mess he made, especially when Q started screaming about the sprinklers and how he’s got all this _sensitive equipment_ someone cover the computers please!

 


End file.
